Devil's Advocate
by WolfKidBirdGirl
Summary: Mikaela was sure that this girl would kill her. MikaelaxOC, femxfem
1. Six Months Out

It had been six months since Mikaela Banes had broken up with Sam Witwicky. Six awful, harrowing months of tears and pain and...betrayal. Six months of Mikaela, recluse, curled up alone in her workshop while Sam packed and finished college.

She was alone, now. Bumblebee called every now and then, and they chatted. Well, she chatted and the sweet little robot chirped. Despite Mikaela's wishes to get away from everything - the robots, the war, the battles - her bond with Bumblebee was so deep that she couldn't help but call to check up on him, hear his voice...

Mikaela didn't ask about Sam anymore.

Six months until the pain began to reside, and she went back to work. Not being attacked. Not having friends brutalized. Safe. The Decepticon's were never interested in her, she remembered. It was always Sam - would always be Sam. She was just his faithful sidekick.

But she, like Sam, could be proven wrong.

And she was.

Mikaela, after a year of Sam being off the grid, went out drinking. Just a few and her friends - _few_ meaning the _only_ few, for most of Mikaela's High School friends had been whisked away to college. It was a small bar on the west side of town, past the garage where she and Sam had been attacked by the Decepticon Barricade so many years ago.

It was loud, bass pumping, neon reflecting off stone walls and glass windows. Alcohol flowed and the room became tight, packed.

After the two battles, Mikaela's had become much more sensitive to enclosed environments. It was a survival instinct, she realized. Just as she'd been checking almost every car parked outside the club for Decepticon signals, she was glancing around now, pinpointing every female in the room and attempting to guess whether or not they were a pretender.

She felt lightheaded. A friend handed her a drink and she declined.

"I need some fresh air," she murmured. The noise was so loud that she doubted her friend could hear her, so she just waved a hand and began pushing through the crowd, inching slowly along in he green heels.

Mikaela burst outside. She wasn't heavily drunk, but she could feel the alcohol, the beer and the champagne, the mixed drinks, taking effect. She'd ridden with a group, didn't have the keys, so leaving was definitely not an option.

She sighed and leaned against the walls of the club, glancing to her left and, several meters away, obscured by the shadows, spotted a couple practically inhaling each other out of some precious need - Mikaela couldn't recognize the individuals, and she didn't really want to, lest it was someone she knew. Like Trent, or Haley.

Or Sam. Fat chance of that, though. She didn't spot a yellow camaro and she doubted he'd fly all the way back home just to win Mikaela back through some petty jealousy ploy.

It was just her, thinking. Creating a false scenario, for Mikaela was already beginning to see the depths of her anxiety.

She didn't want to be alone. Mikaela Banes, after all the life-changing events she'd seen, all the fights she'd endured, all the friends she'd made...

Mikaela didn't want Sam, but she didn't want loneliness. And without Sam, there was loneliness.

"Need a ride?"

Mikaela rolled her head to the side and saw that it was not a boy that had spoken to her, but a girl who looked as if she'd been carved from a solid black stone. Angular face, long, straight nose, lips prominent, eyes the color of deep, rich chocolate. Her hair was long, but barely reached her shoulders. She looked to be around Mikaela's age, maybe older.

Mikaela gaped, slid up the wall, and stared. Her lips struggled to form a coherent sentence, "I'm good, thank you," absently, she glanced towards the lip-locked couple to her left. The girls eyes followed.

"You seem lonely. I'm Rya," the girl held out her hand, and Mikaela weakly grasped it. "I, um, I think we went to the same school. Nice dress, by the way."

"Thank you."

"You're dating Sam Witwicky, right? Is he inside?"

"No," Mikaela shrugged. "He's...gone off to college. We broke up. I, um, don't have a boyfriend."

Rya's eyes softened and she nodded. "Me neither. My friends ditched me - that's why I'm out here," she gestured towards her car. "I'm sorry about you and Sam. It's cold out here - why don't you come sit inside my car?"

Mikaela was half-drunk, upset, and her decision was influenced by those factors. Getting into a car with a random stranger? Hah. She'd done that once before and it had landed her in the middle of an alien conspiracy.

That hadn't been the mistake. The mistakes had come much, much later.

Mikaela slid into the passengers seat of the car - it was a nice model, certainly not anything an Autobot or a Decepticon would scan. The seats were comfortable and didn't move on their own accord - something Mikaela had become used to since riding inside Bumblebee - and the belts didn't slide across her chest to buckle.

Rya switched on some music, yet even that did not change the atmosphere. Mikaela was still on high alert.

"You look nervous. C'mon, its _me_," Rya said softly. "Mr. Durhams class, junior year. We took Algebra together, and Computer Sciences."

"I never noticed you," Mikaela mused aloud.

"I noticed you. Everyone did. You were gorgeous," Rya murmured. "Still are."

Mikaela tilted her head, reached out, and grasped Rya's hand. The pace of the music increased and the tempo changed, thought that could have just been Mikaela's own drunken mind.

"Sam was a jerk," Mikaela gurgled. "He didn't give a shit about his friends," she caught herself. "His friends, or anything like that. He was selfish."

"I know a lot of people like that. But Sam is just one boy, right? He can't dictate the course of your life."

Mikaela raised pencil thin eyebrows and gazed across the seat. The lights from the club reflected off Rya's eyes, turning them from orange to white to pink.

She squeezed Rya's hand harder. "I know."

"Then why are you out here drinking the night away?"

"Why are _you_?"

"To hook up. There aren't a lot of cute girls in my part of the town," Rya shrugged. "My friends get dates so I thought...you know, its time to try. Maybe someone will look at me the way Sam used to look at you or...I dunno."

What Mikaela did next was either stupid, or smart, or a combination of both.

She practically lunged over the passengers seat to capture Rya's lips with her own. The kiss was sloppy, feral, messy and fueled by drunken stupor.

Rya was too shocked to return it at first, but her lips fell into a brief, but steady rhythm.

Mikaela's stomach was on fire.

Maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was Rya's red-painted lips. Both tasted like cherry, both tasted good.

She tried to imagine that Rya's lips were _Sam's_ lips but she couldn't, so she pulled away as quickly as possible, falling back into the seat.

Mikaela inhaled. Exhaled. Tried to swallow down the rise of bile in her throat, a mixture of shame, confusion, anxiety and pure, problem-solving alcohol.

"I need to," Mikaela stammered. She glanced over - Rya's mouth was pressed into a thin line. Mikaela repeated, "I _need_..."

"What?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I need anymore," Mikaela whispered. Her fingers slipped from the handle of the car door, and she sat back. Tried to relax, tried to focus her unfocused eyes on the scantily clad men and women entering and exiting the club.

"Did you have fun in there? With your friends?" Rya asked.

"No."

"Do you want to go someplace else?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Someplace fun. I don't care where," Mikaela beamed and tilted her head back. "Fuck it. Fuck it all. I don't care."

Rya nodded, started the car, jerked it into reverse and pulled from the parking lot.

They drove, and Mikaela didn't look back.

* * *

She awoke on her stomach, laying stark naked on a mattress somewhere.

The air was warm. Something heavy rested against her shoulder, a head, Mikaela could tell. They were breathing against her flesh.

A hand was wrapped around and curled against Mikaela's, and it was not the rough, chipped hand of a male but one of a female - still rough, but slender and feminine.

_Shit_.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

_ What had she done?_

Maybe it was the alcohol. She and...what was her name...Rya, yeah, Rya, they had been drinking at someone house - Rya's house. Much, much more than either had drank at the club, for they enjoyed the company of each other.

That was all Mikaela particularly remembered, but there had been kissing. And touching. And everything Mikaela was used to, yet somehow _not_ used to...

Whatever. This was a story for Mikaela Banes's personal history book. A stain on something that wouldn't be known by _anyone_ but Mikaela and Rya.

She neglected it, then. Just basked in the comfort Rya provided, tried not to lose her cool. She dared not move, for Rya's was still sound asleep.

_Pretend it's Sam,_ she told herself. _Or Trent. A guy. _

The thing was, she couldn't. And as she lay there longer, she found that she really didn't want to.

Mikaela staggered home after that. Her father was away, doing his own thing, cheating his own way. Recluse. Mikaela didn't really care.

She spent the next two days working on bikes, elbow deep in grease, hair pulled back from her angular face. Her cell phone lay on the workbench, though it wasn't as if anyone would _call_ her.

Anyway, if it rank, the sound of the welder would drown it out and force whomever it was to leave a voicemail. Then, Mikaela would have the joy of listening instead of speaking through a conversation.

For once, she was not thinking of Rya. She'd gone a day without it, a feat that had been excruciatingly difficult. She'd given up on searching whatever fragments of memory she had left from that night - she'd awoken with sore legs, a sore backside, and sore shoulders. And a girl lying atop her. Then she'd had to search for her clothes.

Rya was probably out telling the whole neighborhood. Mikaela Banes, what was she? A dyke, a slut, what? High School was over, so Mikaela didn't have a representation to ruin anymore. Her failed relationship with Sam had already done that for her. And her relationship with the Autobot's, sentient alien lifeforms from another planet, had basically been the pinnacle of whatever extraordinary things she would experience or accomplish throughout her lifetime, she was _sure_.

And her "relationship" with Rya. But that was another thing Mikaela tried not to think about.

Tried not to think about it, and then the girl showed up.

"You forgot your jacket."

Mikaela almost banged her head against the underside of the bike. The voice was rough, laced with hidden undertones not even Mikaela could comprehend.

She pulled her head out from under the bike, flipped up her goggles, and sighed. Rya stood at the mouth of the garage, dressed in simple sweatpants and a sweatshirt, holding a flimsy, too-tight blue jacket between her fingers. Her hair was unkempt.

Mikaela gulped and nodded, tried to quell her growing fascination. This was the _wrong_ time to get butterflies in her stomach!

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry about a few nights ago," Rya scratched at her throat, brown eyes full of sincerity. "I didn't know if you were...um, like me. You know. Shared my interest."

"It's alright. I came onto you," Mikaela shrugged, then narrowed her eyes. "I did, didn't I?"

"You did in the car. At home, it was me, I'm pretty sure. I barely remember, either."

Mikaela gnawed on her bottom lip and turned away. What she _did_ remember, had been nice.

But she didn't _dare_ say that to Rya.

"I don't share your interest, if that's what your here to know. I'm straight as a board," Mikaela lied. "Straight, as in, males. But whatever _you're_ into is fine."

Rya raised her eyebrows. Nodded once, twice, before spreading her arms wide. "Alright. I just wanted to drop your jacket by," she backed away from the garage. "Nice bike, by the way. Ducati? My dad used to have one of those."

Mikaela sucked in a breath and nodded. "You like cars?"

"A little. My cousin actually races for Nascar...fun, huh? Anyway, he was really into them growing up so...I kind of hitched along."

"I'm about to make lunch, if you wanted to stay? My dad is away, so, it would just be the two of us," Mikaela rolled her shoulders. "I mean, not to make things even more awkward. I just assumed, since you're here..."

Rya smiled. "I'd love too."

Despite Rya's rough outward appearance, Mikaela was surprised to find that the girl had a softer, gentler side. While still keeping her usual stiff composure, she answered Mikaela's question, was friendly. She even helped Mikaela clean the table after lunch.

"You'll have to show me your painting, sometime," Mikaela said, grinning. She'd switched from her oil stained, greasy work clothes into something more comfortable - shorts, boots and an embroidered tank top. She and Rya had both moved outside and were sitting on law chairs beneath the awning that lead onto the front porch of Mikaela's rugged home. Mikaela's glass of lemonade was full while Rya's was empty.

"It's just a hobby, I mean...I'm not a modern-day Michelangelo or anything."

Mikaela brought her glass of lemonade to her lips, sipping lightly. She was relaxing in Rya's presence, she realized. Becoming comfortable, and trying to view the girl before her as a _friend_, and not something else.

It was difficult, Mikaela found. A part of her wished she could remember...

_No. No, no. _

The longer she looked at Rya, the prettier Mikaela found her to be. It wasn't conventional beauty - her physical appearance could draw anyone, though her figure was tough and imposing upon sight, and her eyes looked as if they'd seen too much for someone her age. She reminded Mikaela a little of Ironhide, the way her stare seemed to pierce through even the simplest of creatures.

Mikaela hadn't cared about all that two nights ago, during their drunken stupor. It had just been...desperate sex. An attempt to rid herself of Sam and the baggage, the memories that he'd left behind.

"It's good that you have a hobby. So, what's your situation?" Mikaela asked timidly.

"My parents are divorced. I'm trying to find a job, so I still live with my mom..." Rya nodded as she spoke, almost as if trying to convince herself as well as Mikaela. Quickly, she took a sip of her lemonade. "I was nine. I don't remember it all that well."

"Hm," Mikaela glanced at the ground. "We didn't see each other a lot during school."

"Nah. You were way higher up than me, way more popular. I sat at the 'weird' table with all the 'weird' people. You didn't have a reason to acknowledge me."

"I should have," Mikaela murmured. "I should have. When did you find out that you were...ya know..."

"I'm bisexual. There's a difference," Rya shrugged. "It's not like a got a card in the mail or anything. You just kind of...figure it out. It hits you, like an epiphany. I like girls, and sometimes boys...I can't do anything about that."

"Neither can I."

Rya raised her eyebrows. "I thought you weren't interested?"

"I'm not, I...I don't know, alright? I just went through a really tough break-up, and I was desperate. You were there, I was drunk, so I just...you know, went for it. What else could I have done?"

"You could have walked away when it got serious."

"I didn't _want_ to. I was _drunk_, Rya, how could I have?"

"You're a smart girl. You tell me."

Mikaela squeezed her glass of lemonade so hard that she feared it would shatter. "'Smart' girl You're the first person to ever call me that," she gazed wistfully at Rya. "Dating dumb jocks...people like Trent, it doesn't get you very far. I barely have any friends."

"Those girls at the club- "

"'Friends.'" Mikaela huffed. "I call them that, but do a really spend time with them? No. I don't. After everything..." Mikaela caught herself, and then searched Rya's face. The other girl hadn't noticed Mikaela's slip up.

What did it matter?

The Autobots, Mikaela assumed, were common knowledge. She'd heard people talking, and though no one, save for Sam, Mikaela, Lennox, everyone who had been in the alien inner circle knew any extensive details. Some people doubted that the aliens even existed, dismissed it as some national prank or government conspiracy. Some weren't paying attention.

Some didn't even really give a shit.

Which one was Rya? Hell, for all Mikaela knew, the girl sitting before her, the girl Mikaela had spent an intimate night with, could have been a Decepticon in disguise. It wasn't like the Decepticons to leave evidence behind, and despite Mikaela's background role in the alien civil war, she was still, and would continue to be, evidence.

Mikaela searched Rya's face. The pretender, Alice, she'd looked normal, for the brief moment Mikaela had seen her. Rya's skin was smooth, like Alice's, features even, but not perfect. She was handsome, in a sense.

She was strong, no doubt. She could overpower Mikaela with just pure strength.

Mikaela suddenly felt uneasy.

"Are you alright?" Rya asked, staring quizzically.

"I'm fine."

"You look a little pale."

"No, I'm just thinking," Mikaela tapped her fingers against the lemonade glass, a steady rhythm. "I have a lot on my mind."

Rya nodded. And that was the end of that.

They talked a little more, chatted. The conversation was still awkward. Flashes, memories of two nights ago kept coming back to Mikaela. Each time, she hoped that they hadn't been hers. Each time, she was proven wrong.

Rya left. Mikaela was alone in her home, waiting, watching for when her father returned home. She tried to call him, but it went straight to voicemail.

Mikaela was..._alone. Sam was...gone._

_Alone. Defeated. For the first time, Mikaela felt defeated._

_And it hadn't even been because of a damn Decepticon. _

At ten o'clock that night, she dialed up Rya's number. She answered after the third ring.

"Hey," the voice on the other end was drowsy, yet when Mikaela spoke, it became alert.

"I don't want to be alone anymore."

Mikaela heard Rya gulp, heard the rustling of sheets. She leaned back on her bed, gnawing on her lower lip as she waited for Rya to respond.

"I'll be right over."


	2. Moment of Truth

"Why are you so afraid of being alone?"

Mikaela's head rested against Rya's chest. They were lying in bed, Rya's fingers trailing warm, lazy circles against Mikaela's back.

She arrived at Mikaela's home, and Mikaela had allowed her entrance. They'd drank a glass of wine, and had stumbled into bed. Mikaela didn't remember if there had been kissing, touching, any of that sorts. She'd just awoken in the strong arms of an equally strong figure.

Mikaela's eyes travelled to Rya's features. Still feminine, yet still...

Still what?

Mikaela sighed. "I don't know. Maybe its because I've always had a boyfriend -"

"But I'm not your boyfriend-"

"I don't know what you are, Rya. And I don't mean that the wrong way," Mikaela pulled herself from Rya's embrace, and both girls sat up. "I'm just confused. Scared, angry, and confused."

"Why?"

Because I'm constantly in danger - oh, what the hell, Mikaela! You're no longer with Sam! The Decepticon's wouldn't have any reason to come after you!

You're safe here, safe with her. It's why you called her over, right?

Right, Mikaela? Selfishness?

Rya was no Sam, no Bumblebee. She couldn't protect Mikaela from the threats she was used to dealing with. Hell, Rya had no idea of Mikaela's involvement with the Autobots, the Decepticons...Megatron, Optimus, the Matrix...

"What can you do?" Mikaela murmured.

"Huh?"

"I just..." Mikaela shook her head, smoothing back her hair. Her small, ratty tank top felt too tight, and her bare legs shivered. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Oh, trust me. I'm sure. You'd think I were crazy."

"I'm used to dealing with crazy."

"As crazy as me? As crazy as all the shit I've been through?"

Rya was silent. Her fingers slid across the bedsheets, and her eyes wandered; not to Mikaela, but elsewhere. Distant, far off. "Yeah," she finally said. "I'm used to dealing with crazy."

Mikaela chuckled, and then, absently, rested her head against Rya's shoulder.

"How am I going to explain this to my dad?" Mikaela mumbled.

"Just tell him."

"That I'm seeing a girl?"

"I depends. Are you interested in that girl?"

Mikaela pulled away, a sly smirk playing across her pink, full lips. "Smooth," she mused aloud. "I'm impressed. You're not Miss Stoic after all. You do have some humor in you."

"Some," Rya echoed. "More than I wish for, at least."

Mikaela extended a hand, thumb gently flicking across Rya's lower lip. She held it there for a moment, before allowing it to wander down Rya's neck.

"More than you wish for," Mikaela murmured. "I can't imagine you wishing for things, really. You're, like, a go-get-it kind of girl. Wishing just leads to more waiting..."

"So you think I'm impatient?"

"I don't know, are you?"

"Well, I've been waiting for you to kiss me for over thirty minutes. I didn't drive all the way over here, just to have you fondle my lip with your thumb."

Mikaela made a noise in the back of her throat. She thought about pulling her hand away, but didn't. What was the harm, she told herself? Who was she hurting- certainly not Rya.

And this time, she'd be able to feel Rya's lips as a sober woman. No drunk, her senses and judgement blurred by alcohol. This time, she know if she'd made a mistake.

She leaned over and kissed Rya, tangling her fingers into her messy locks.

Her lips were soft - not as rough, as Sam's. Sweet. Mikaela didn't want to pull away, after that.

So she didn't.

Rya was the one to break contact - she separated, and in the dim light, Mikaela could see her chest heaving, her fingers twitching. The girl sitting next to Mikaela reached out and brushed her palm against Mikaela's cheek.

"So what exactly happened between you and Sam?"

Mikaela shrugged. "We both slipped up," she answered truthfully. "I wanted space, he wanted...well, I don't know what he wanted. He wanted something different, something better."

"Better than you?" Rya said, aghast.

"Maybe not me in particular, but...we just weren't meant for each other, I guess."

Even after all the shit they'd been through. Even after he'd died, and Mikaela had wept.

All of that had been a lie. All of that had been fiction, and Mikaela was the author. She'd written those parts of and now, she was left with nothing. Nothing but this girl, this strange, dark-skinned, dark-eyed girl.

Rya didn't mean a lot, compared to Sam. But she did mean something.

"I'm tired," Mikaela murmured. She slid back under the covers, exhaling sharply. She felt the bed dip beside her, and then Rya's face loomed over hers.

"Do you want me to leave?" she murmured.

"No."

"Alright."

Mikaela rolled over, meeting Rya's brown orbs, which hovered inches away from her own. Mikaela's lips stretched into a small smile, and she felt the urge to kiss Rya again.

Something...anything to make it all go away...

"I thought you didn't prefer girls," Rya whispered.

"I may have bent the truth just a little."

"Do you like me?"

"Just because I like you, doesn't mean that I like _all_ girls."

"That's not how it works, Mikaela. Trust me, I would know."

Mikaela silenced Rya with a chaste kiss on the lips. The gesture wasn't meant to be overly affectionate, wasn't mean to be passionate and laced with devotion.  
Mikaela pulled away and murmured, "Then I'll trust you to teach me."  
Rya grasped her, crawled atop her, hands shaking.

"Just make me forget," Mikaela murmured.

Rya did.

* * *

"Is your dad still away?"

"He's in Vegas," Mikaela murmured. "What do you think?"

Mikaela felt a warm breeze tickle her bare midriff. She stood in the kitchen, body obscured by the open refrigerator door. She'd woken before Rya, had dressed, and had run before returning home to find Rya awake.

The girl was sitting on a stool behind the kitchen counter, dressed only in underwear and an overlong sweatshirt that barely reached her knees. It allowed Mikaela to admire her long, smooth, chocolate brown legs, unblemished and muscular. Her eyes held a distant look, as if unaware of her surroundings.

"I don't have much food here," Mikaela said apologetically. "We could always go out to eat -"

"I'm alright. I don't eat breakfast, usually."

Mikaela nodded. She grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and poured out the last bit of cereal from whatever box she could find. She offered it to Rya, but the girl shook her head.

"Suit yourself," Mikaela murmured. Chewing, holding the bowl in one hand, she made her way to a stool and seated herself next to Rya.

"Why is your dad in Vegas?" Rya asked.

"To party. Buy more booze, pass out drunk. Maybe hijack a car while he's at it, get himself arrested. Again."

Rya nodded, and Mikaela was relieved. For once, someone didn't inquire to intensely about Mikaela's questionable past. And while Mikaela had left out her own criminal records - which had been eradicated, thanks to the now-nonexistent Sector 7 - she saw herself trusting Rya more as the future approached.  
Future...

Mikaela blinked. This was a relationship, she realized. A strange one, a slow one, but a relationship. More like friends with benefits, but it was something, someone that wouldn't leave Mikaela withering alone...

"Thank you," Rya suddenly said.

"For what?" Mikaela replied, dipping the spoon into the bowl of cereal, diving down to take another bite.

"Letting me stay here, last night. I've missed spending time with...people. Actual people, not just...drunken shells I hang around at the club."

Mikaela reached out, squeezed Rya's hand. "Hey, its my pleasure."

Silence. Mikaela, crunching languidly on her breakfast, and Rya, staring at the counter.

"I can't believe that I used to be jealous of you during school."

"I can't believe that I overlooked you," Mikaela replied smoothly. "Trust me, now that I look at you..."

"I've changed since then."

"So have I."

Rya tilted her head to the side, looked Mikaela up and down. "Nah, you pretty much look the same. I mean, you look tired, but thats because its morning."

_Or because I've been chased, shot at, captured..._

"But you're still beautiful," she finished.

_And where has that gotten me?_

"That doesn't mean anything."

"To me it did. I was never the popular girl, the pretty girl. I'm still not. But there aren't a lot of people out there like me, at least, that I've met. So I guess that doesn't matter."

Mikaela set down her spoon, licked milk from her lips. "I don't know why this matters."

"Because I'm trying to figure out why. I know you're alone, I know you're upset. But why not go spend the night with Trent, someone you know, or Adam? Connor, Drew...boys you know."

"Because I never liked the last two, and the first is an asshole."

"At least you wouldn't be alone."

Mikaela stared into her near empty bowl, and then back at Rya. In the morning light, the girls skin seemed to shine, ethereal. Mikaela said the first answer that came to her mind, the right answer.

"But none of those guys would make me feel alive again."

* * *

"Humans are insipid, weak, stupid creatures. The scum of this planet. And you want us to comb through this town in an attempt to capture just one?"

"One for lord Megatron. Capture one, and you'll earn his favor."

"I don't need his favor."

"He gave us two options. Undercover capture, or lay waste to this town and lure out the Autobots. This is where the Witwicky's live, you know? This is where the Autobots first arrived on Earth.

"Then let it be the place they rest. How ironic would it be, for Optimus Prime to perish in the very same place her arrived? It's genius, genius. My genius."

"Yes...you are the one and only thinker."

"Don't flatter me."

Starscream felt like constructing a makeshift throne from old, battered Earth vehicles. Maybe, when Tranquility lay destroyed, a dump of fine metal and dead humans, Megatron would allow him to take it. Keep the humans as slaves, maybe.

That was his fantasy. It was a sick one, but it was his.  
"We shall wait on the outskirts of this town for reinforcements. By tonight, it shall lay in ruins."  
"We'll end it all quickly."

"Yes. Quickly, before the Autobots arrive. And then..."

"We'll give them no choice but to surrender."

"All this for one girl?"

Starscream reached out and ran a talon across Barricade's face, allowing it to dip underneath his chin so to yank his head helm upwards. "Yes," he hissed. "But it is necessary. Megatron wants the girl, needs the girl. He does not care what is done to the remaining population. I see it now..." Starscream gazed off. "Megatron gets the girl, we get the town."

Starscream saw the plan before him as it unravelled. It was no longer just a...what was it the humans said? Something moronic, of course...oh, yes, a glimmer in his optic. The idea was no longer a glimmer in his optic, but right up close. Right...there.  
Close enough to touch it.

"An exceptional plan," Barricade muttered.

"And it shall not fail."


	3. Invasion

"Shopping?" Rya eyes narrowed to slits, and she tilted her head back. "_Shopping_?"

"Let me guess. You hate shopping."

"What was your first clue?" Rya responded, not taking her eyes off Mikaela. Then she wrenched open the door of Mikaela's old Mustang, one of the cars Mikaela had actually fixed up herself. Mikaela chuckled and slid into the drivers seat, cranking the engine, grinning when it gave a soft purr.

"C'mon," she said. "It won't be _that_ bad," she glanced to the side as Rya sat beside her, slamming the door shut and grasping the seatbelt. "You need to get out more often."

"So I've been told."

They squealed from Mikaela's driveway, heading towards the mall - the only one in Tranquility. She hoped it wouldn't be as crowded, for most of the students were away for the holiday. The last time she'd even stepped foot into the mall, she'd had Sam with her, and they had been driven by Bumblebee.

Now it was Mikaela, her dusty old Mustang, and a Mikaela's...girlfriend? Were she and Rya at that stage, yet? Or was this still a fling...a rebound boy erm...girl. Someone to help Mikaela get through her breakup with Sam; a different bedfellow than she was used to, but a bedfellow, nonetheless.

And a pretty one, at that. Mikaela resisted the urge to glance over at Rya again.

"I don't usually come through this part of town."

"Really? Tranquility is pretty small...I mean..." Mikaela trailed off, catching herself as they sped past the very diner Ratchet had practically crushed as he'd landed on Earth. It was renovated, sparkling new, as if nothing had ever happened. She slapped a hand against the steering wheel and sped on.

"You mean what?"

"Nothing. It's small, that's all."

"I don't really get out a lot, like you said earlier. I'm just...not a shopper. I'd rather be painting or drawing at home."

Mikaela nodded. She pressed the brake, watching the light before her switch from yellow to red.

They parked, Mikaela strutting through the double doors, Rya tagging along, trailing behind, hands shoved into the pocket of her sweatshirt.

Mikaela did most of the shopping, most of the buying, while Rya hovered, almost protectively, at her side, shooting glares at anyone who dared eye Mikaela too openly. It wasn't the same, Mikaela realized, as when she'd dragged Sam to shop. Maneuvering in open places filled with people had become risky, for anyone could be a Decepticon - _anyone_, Mikaela realized, meaning someone like that freak Alice - her only consolation had been the knowledge that Bumblebee was outside, watching, waiting. Even with Trent, she'd been wary - she'd had her fair share of experiences when it came to pervy, slimy men attempting to woo her, and with Trent around, none had even dared touch her.

Mikaela didn't need anyone protecting her. But it was always nice, knowing that someone, at least, had her back.

Rya's gaze alone could tear a Decepticon, no matter the size, apart. Just her figure, now that Mikaela saw her in public, was dominant. A stark contrast to her quiet, almost shy personality.

It made Mikaela chuckle.

"What're you laughing at?" Rya snapped, a slight smile gracing her features. Mikaela handed the clerk her desired clothing, watched as she rang it up.

"You," Mikaela replied casually. "You can relax, you know. This isn't High School - you won't be poked at or made fun of."

"Who said that I was ever made fun of?"

"You said..."

"I said that I was quiet, I was with the weird kids. I didn't make myself known, like some of them. I didn't get picked on because there was nothing to pick about."

Mikaela ducked her head, thanked the clerk, and grasped her bag. Then they stepped into the flow of shoppers, before resting against the railing and overlooking the pit of humans below them.

"Oh, look. Cupcakes," Mikaela smiled and pointed to a shop far below. "Sam used to love coming here."

"Eh. Too pink for me."

"That's exactly what Sam said, but he would go anyway. Or, I would make him."

Rya raised her brows and Mikaela couldn't help but burst into laughter; she looked like a confused fox. "Hell no," she said.

"Who doesn't like cupcakes?" Mikaela prodded. "C'mon, its on me. Then we can go get coffee afterwards."

"Too many people."

"It's practically empty."

"Well, that must tell you something..."

"Rya..._please_?" Mikaela stuck out her lip and pouted, nearly losing her composure when Rya turned away, sucked in a breath.

"No. No, don't make that face-"

"Please?"

"Oh my God, Mikaela. Fine, fine!" Rya threw up her hands. "But you're paying."

"Alright," Mikaela reached out, took Rya's hand. Couldn't help but smile when she noticed how warm it was, how comfortable. "What's you're favorite - chocolate, or vanilla?"

Rya's full lips stretched into a grin. "Vanilla. Chocolate is too rich for me."

* * *

"So are you glad we went?"

Rya didn't meet Mikaela's eye. But Mikaela could see her gaze darting back and forth, before settling on the box of cupcakes in her lap.

"Yes."

"Hah!" Mikaela yanked the keys from the car, pushed open the door. "Told you! You get cupcakes and...what was it you bought?"

"A paint palette."

"A paint palette. Right. Just say it, I'm a genius."

"You're exceptionally intelligent."

"That counts."

Rya leaned against the Mustang, rested the box of cupcakes on the hood, and then embraced Mikaela.

They kissed. Once, twice, three times before Mikaela pulled away and murmured, "What was that for?"

"You wouldn't stop talking."

They pulled away, the lack of closeness making Mikaela ache. But she didn't say anything, just grabbed the box and walked up the stairs towards the front door.

_Is this still a fling, Mikaela? Are you still trying to rebound from your relationship with Sam by sleeping with, shopping with, this girl?_

She shook her head, muttered words to herself. She shut the door behind Rya and flopped onto the couch. "You can stay another night, if you want."

"I don't want to be a bother," Rya replied softly.

Mikaela lazily tilted her head back, mouth open. "I want you too. It's boring without you."

"I'm not exactly a party animal," Rya said dryly. "But whatever you say."

Mikaela beamed.

They watched a movie that afternoon. Ate dinner, then watched a marathon of Rya's favorite television series. She ended up getting Mikaela hooked on it.

_Who knew zombies could be this interesting, Mikaela mused. _

Rya insisted that she sleep on the couch, Mikaela retaliated and said, "The bed is better."

"You mean on top of you is better?"

"I guess."

Rya rested a hand against Mikaela's cheek, leaned across, and kissed her. It was slow, drawn out, intimate - her hands wandered, and Mikaela stopped her.

"We need to at least sleep tonight."

"We'll sleep," Rya's lips found their mark, massaging Mikaela's throat. She pulled away and murmured, "trust me."

"Rya," Mikaela groaned. She tilted her head to the side, met the girls eye when she separated her lips from Mikaela's skin. "Promise?"

"Promise that we'll sleep?"

"Promise that...until my dad gets back, you'll stay with me?"

Rya's fingers twisted into the hemline of Mikaela's underwear, wrapping around lace. She paused.

"I promise."

* * *

"What's that noise?"

Mikaela's eyes snapped open. She felt Rya's body pressed against her own, felt her ankle rub against her foot. Her hand was against Mikaela's bare back, and the sensation, the feel of flesh against flesh, distracted her.

"_What's that noise?_"

Mikaela heard it, then. A distant crack, almost as if it were thunder. But it wasn't. It clearly wasn't, because afterwards came screams of terror.

Headlights passed through Mikaela's room, illuminating the bed and the two girls upon it. Mikaela scrambled from the bed, nearly falling, hands searching blindy...her clothes, where were her clothes? Her underwear, her shirt, her pants...it had all been thrown around the room...

Rya sat up, clutched the sheets around her naked torso. "What the _hell_?"

"Get dressed," Mikaela barked. "_Now_."

The scream of a police siren, followed by an explosion so great that it rattled the house, prompted Rya to obey.

Decepticons.

That had to be it. Decepticons.

Always them.

_Always_...

"Shit," Mikaela snarled. She slid on her boots and pounded down the stairs, shoved through the front door, Rya hot on her heels. The girl was just pulling on her shirt, tugging her arms through the sleeves.

Mikaela's small, quaint neighborhood was in shambles.

Bodies littered the streets.

Cars were smashed, homes were burning.

Survivors were running.

Through the haze, Mikaela saw a towering shape, unmistakably familiar.

"Fuck," Mikaela tugged Rya and they both went running, sliding through the narrow passage behind Mikaela's house. Then they sprinted, feet pounding, in the dead of night.

"What's going on, Mikaela? What was that creature?"

"Decepticon's," she spat.

"What?"

"Oh, shit, you're not in the loop. I'll explain everything as soon as we get to safety."

They cut through another backyard, feet pounding. They they skidded into a familiar neighborhood, a familiar front yard with a fountain and plants and a pretty, white wooden fence.

"Hurry," Mikaela said, and in the distance, another explosion sounded.

They hopped the fence and ran through the polished lawn, bounding up the stairs and onto the porch. Heedless, Mikaela pounded on the glass door.

A minute later it opened. Mikaela and Rya, sweaty, hair plastered to their necks and head, clad in a mismatched assortment of clothes, stared into the eyes of Ron Witwicky.

He stared back. Silence stretched between them.

Mikaela said, "We need help."

Ron Witwicky nodded. He opened the door and said, "This whole damn neighborhood is going to need help in a second. I heard the explosions, some in the center of town, more close by. Whatever they're doing, they're doing it fast."

"What the hell," Rya breathed.

"Exactly," Ron Witwicky opened the door wider, ushering the girls inside. "Come inside, quickly."

They did.

Mikaela re-familiarized herself with Sam's home. It was weird, different, a little bit awkward being in here, despite the fact that she'd broken up with him...but his parents were generous, she knew. Ever since Egypt, they'd understood the entire situation.

"Okay," Rya stood, motionless, in the kitchen. Ron and Mikaela turned. "You owe me an explanation. What was that? That...thing out there," for the first time, Rya seemed speechless, stuttering, tripping over words. But still keeping some sort of composure.

"It's a long story," both Mikaela and Ron said together.

"Well, I'm ready to hear it."

Mikaela shot Ron Witwicky a glance, and he nodded. Left them alone to search for a flashlight, for the house had no power.

So Mikaela sat Rya down and began speaking.

"So Sam bought a car, see..."


	4. Iridescent

They spent the rest of the night at the Witwicky's. By then, things had calmed down, and though Mikaela could hear the explosions in the distance as the Decepticon's destroyed Tranquility, making their way from East to...West. From East to where Rya and Mikaela, and Ron and Judy Witwicky, were holed up.

Waiting. Waiting for the Autobots to arrive or...or something.

Or just...waiting for the end.

"You're being quiet," Mikaela murmured, reaching over and touching Rya lightly on the thigh. From there, her hand travelled to wrap around Rya's own. "You're not scared, are you?"

"I'm practically pissing myself right now, Mikaela."

Mikaela ducked her head. Rya, afraid? For some reason that was difficult to fathom.

They sat in silence on the Witwicky's couch, having woken early - it was still dark outside, and both girls were exhausted. The noises outside had calmed, almost to the point that Mikaela believed maybe, just maybe, the Autobots had arrived and were battling elsewhere.

"I used to be out there, with Sam," Mikaela jerked her head towards the door. "I bet he's right in the middle of everything..."

"Didn't you say he moved to D.C?"

"That wouldn't stop him."

Rya scooted closer. Mikaela appreciated the warmth, the comfort, as Rya leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You said it yourself...all of that is over, for you."

"God, I hope so."

In the distance, an explosion, the sound like rolling thunder. The windows of the Witwicky household shuddered, and immediately, Mikaela heard pounding footsteps against the staircase.

"Jesus," Judy barked. "Can it get any louder...Ron, sweetheart, you're right. We will have to move after this."

"Or take a cross-country road trip, like I suggested," Rona beat his hand against the flashlight, and suddenly the room was flooded with light. "How much sleep did you girls get?"

"None," Mikaela answered tiredly. "How could we?"

Judy nodded, understanding. At the same time, Mikaela caught a flicker of hostility in her eyes - Mikaela didn't blame her. She'd broken Sam's heart. Her eyes travelled to Rya, and she said, "Rya, right?"

"Yes ma'am," Rya answered.

"I'm sorry you had to get caught up in all this, sweetheart...I...I didn't believe it myself, at first. And then I saw Bumblebee..."

"Sam's car?"

"Yes. You just have to...get used to it. Or ignore it. Both are still dangerous."

"I understand," Rya nodded and glanced at Mikaela. "Mikaela's gotten me up to speed. I just...don't understand it. What are the...Decepticons, what are they looking for?"

"We've been asking ourselves the same question. Here, in Tranquility?" Ron shook his head. "Hell if I knew. It can't be Sam, that's for sure."

Mikaela absently squeezed the soft cushion beneath her.

Her.

Her. That's...all...they could be looking for, right? There was nothing else that made sense.

Shit. Shit, shit.

"_Me_," Mikaela stammered. "I think...they want me."

"That's absurd!" Judy exclaimed.

"Is it? Other than you two, I was the closest person involved with Sam...they, they've seen me, for Christ's sake! _Megatron_ has seen me!"

"Well, like hell they're going to get you!" Rya spat. "I'll tear them apart with my bare hands, if I have to!"

"Rya," Mikaela began, "have you seen th-"

"I won't let them."

A fierceness burned behind Rya's eyes, full of fire and adrenaline. For a second, Mikaela believed her.

And that belief gave her comfort.

The windows rattled. Another earth shattering bang, and Mikaela heard screams.

"They're coming," Ron barked. "Quickly, get away from the windows," he turned the flashlight towards the staircase. "Upstairs, now!"

Grasping Rya's hand, Mikaela pulled and ushered the girl forward as they darted up the stairs, Judy and Ron hot on their heels. The flashlight beam illuminated the portraits and pictures lined across the long hallway that led to Sam's room - Ron skidded on the breaks and said, "Here. Duck down, make sure they can't see you."

Mikaela obeyed. She and Rya pressed themselves against the wall while Ron fumbled with the flashlight, turning it off and joining Judy on the opposite wall.

The house was dead silent. The only sounds came from outside - the screams, the explosions that caused the house to shake.

Rya gripped Mikaela's hand this time. And she did not let go.

* * *

_"We're approaching the Witwicky household, sir."_

_"Don't just stand there - check to see if the girl is there!"_

Barricade grimaced at Starscream's tone. He missed Megatron. A shame, he'd placed Starscream in command of this...mission.

He recognized the Witwicky household. The boy was no longer a resident. Again, such a shame, though Barricade was sure Megatron would have liked to kill the boy himself.

He ducked down and shouldered the side of the home. Windows cracked, little pieces of glass cascading down upon his head. Plants crunched beneath his pedes, and a portion of the home sagged inward, like a fallen pie crust.

Then he swatted, and the section caved in.

From inside, he heard shouts.

_Jackpot_.

* * *

Rya managed to pull Mikaela to the side as the floor beneath her crumbled. Dust rained upon this as the house creaked.

"Fuck!" Mikaela shouted. She covered her head with her hands. "_Rya_!"

"Judy!"

Ron shoved a chunk of wood from his wife's torso. Then he grasped her hand and pulled her away as Sam's room was practically torn away, revealing blaring red optics and a devilish smile.

Then it disappeared.

"Where'd he go -" Rya began.

A hand exploded through the wall before them, knocking all four humans to the ground. Long, curled talons groped at empty air, slashing inches from Ron and Judy. They kicked, slid on their backs away from the Decepticon claws.

Mikaela was aware of Rya's head pressed against her shoulder, her arms around Mikaela. Dust fell, blocking the view of the Decepticon as he barged through, shattering the staircase.

A chunk of plaster bounced off his head, and he turned and saw Mikaela.

"_Banes_."

Rya grasped a piece of plywood and hurled it at the Decepticon. It bounced off its armor and fell.

Then the floor caved in beneath all four humans and they fell through to the next room.

Ron landed on the couch, and Judy landed atop him. Mikaela hit the granite counter and screamed, and Rya missed and hit solid carpet.

Before them, the legs of the Decepticon kicked and sent dirt and wood flying. Mikaela barely heard the glass door that led to the Witwicky's backyard shatter.

"This way!" Ron gasped, heaving his wife off him. Judy landed and sprang to her feet, groping around, hair and face covered in dust. Mikaela rolled off the counter and searched for Rya - Rya? Where? Where was she?

A hand swept through the kitchen and demolished everything. Kitchenware flew, the countertop was destroyed, and dimly, Mikaela heard a screech.

She looked up and saw a foot, a massive, mechanical foot come swooping in.

Suddenly Rya was in front of her.

The Decepticon kicked Rya and Mikaela heard her bones splinter, snap like dry twigs.

The girl flew and smashed into the wall opposite the glass door.

Mikaela _screamed_.

She pulled herself and and ran, dodging as another section of the ceiling caved in, blocking the Decepticon's view, landing atop Rya's crumpled body.

Mikaela began pulling away, feverish, until her hands and nails were scraped and bloody. She ignored the sharp edges and the nails and...she had to get to Rya before...

She pulled a chunk of plaster away and saw Rya's body and her face.

Saw her eyes barely open, blood leaking from her mouth.

Felt her heartbeat. It fluttered, barely, and then died.

Died.

Died.

She died.

Died in Mikaela's arms, just like Sam. She was holding a corpse.

"No, no, no," Mikaela's sobs were ragged gasps. "No. No. Rya, wake up, please."

She remembered something. A flash of information and she began to place her hands on Rya's chest and pump, up and down, up and down...like Lennox had done to Sam when he'd...

Up and down. A pattern, a rhythm.

In the distance, she heard Ron and Judy's screams. Mikaela, Mikaela, get out of there. It's going get you.

Mikaela only saw Rya.

She breathed into the girls mouth. Over and over, and then went back to pumping, up and down. Harder and harder. Faster and faster until it was useless and Mikaela was hitting Rya's chest over and over, screaming at her to wake up, wake up.

Please...

Please wake up.

"_Please come back to me, Rya, Rya! I need you!"_

Mikaela fell across Rya's body, sobbing, holding her. Stroking her hair even as the Decepticon shoved its way through the debris, standing before Mikaela and Rya.

"Leave her," it rumbled.

"No."

"Very well. Scalpel will enjoy having a human to dissect. Even if it is dead..." the Decepticon clicked its tongue. "Tut, tut."

Then it reached down, hands splayed, and Mikaela was engulfed in darkness.


	5. Curse the Medic

Mikaela was in shock.

Starscream knew that, she could tell. He was towering over her, a massive figure with a massive frame and massive hands capable of crushing poor, puny Mikaela.

He didn't scare her as much as he had two years ago. Mikaela's mind was on Rya, dead Rya, whom Starscream held between his talons as if she were a rag doll in need of play.

"Is this your mate?"

Those were Starscreams first words. Noncalant, casual, raspy. Mikaela could tell that he really didn't care, with the way he gestured with the hand holding Rya and the way his eyes - optics - seemed elsewhere, peering every once and a while towards Barricade, who stood behind Mikaela.

His voice echoed through the warehouse, bouncing off the steel supports and crates.

"Yes."

"You are not with the Witwicky boy...a shame. He would have been a fantastic prize," Starscream eased back. "But you and your femme mate will settle."

"Megatron is still alive?" Mikaela inquired.

"Wounded, but alive. He is making his way here so to claim this pathetic town for himself. Sutiable terriotory for a settlement," Starscream scratched his foot against the concrete floor, his grip on Rya tightening. Suddenly, he said, "I was unaware that humans could breed with their own 'gender.'"

"We can't breed," Mikaela murmured.

"Good. The less humans, the better," Starscream clicked his tongue. "I have no qualms about offlining you, fleshling. But you - not your mate - will make a fine bargaining chip when the Autobots arrive. You know Prime; the fool puts his life on the line to protect any fleshbag," he thrust his arm outward and Barricade stepped forward. "Take this one to Scalpel."

Mikaela turned, saw Barricade pluck Rya from Starscream's hands. Without a glance at Mikaela he turned and stormed away.

"No!"

"She is offline, fleshling," Starscream snarled. "There is no use in protesting further -"

"Please. Please just let her rest in peace," Mikaela felt the tears slide down her cheeks as Barricade dissapeared from the warehouse. "She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve any of this..."

She turned, saw Starscream reach towards her, palms splayed, and then Mikaela's world faded to black.

* * *

"They have the entire town blocked in," Lennox spoke to Optimus Prime as they flew, top speed, in the C-17 cargo jet had functioned as their main mode of transportation since the inception of N.E.S.T.

It felt strange, speaking to a unmoving vehicle. But Optimus replied, and when he replied, his voice rumbled through the entire plane.

"There are several actions we could take, Major. There is no doubt that the Decepticon's have taken hostages."

"We'll be landing in an hour or so. We'll be several miles from Tranquility and unless the Decepticon's send some kind of...of ransom note or a broadcast, then we're free to move in. They can't hold the town forever, you know."

"How many signals?"

"Twelve. We outnumber them."

"And Megatron?"

"No reports or sightings. Our soldiers stationed in Tranquility are on the move, evacuating whomever they can. We're in for a fight, Optimus, you know that?"

"I do. It is inevitable - however, we must avoid as many civilian casualties as possible...Bumblebee has informed me that the Witwicky's, as well as Mikaela Banes are residents in this town."

Lennox felt the plane rumble beneath his feet, and they dipped ever so slightly to the side. He saw Ironhide and a few other Autobots shift in their alternate modes, clearly agitated and ready to leap into battle.

Lennox said, "Then God help them."

* * *

"You're making me _watch_?" Mikaela shouted, pounding her fist against Barricade's talons.

"For scientific purposes. Scalpel is somewhat unfamiliar with human anatomy."

"And you think I'm a genius? Let go of me!" Mikaela hit Barricade's talons again, though her blows were weak and she was more focused on Rya, whose body lay stretched across a metal table, limp. Dead.

"_Don't touch her_!" Mikaela shouted. "_Stop! Please, stop!"_

"She is offline, fleshing. Her organic spark is no longer functioning -"

"I know that! I. Know. That!"

Barricade squeezed and Mikaela screamed.

Scalpel leaped from the floor, landed atop Rya's chest. Mikaela winced as he rubbed his bladed arms together, emitting a high-pitched screeching noise and causing sparks to fly.

"Please don't do this..."

Scalpel plunged his talon deep into Rya's chest and Mikaela shrieked and clawed and spat at Barricade. Stammering in Cybertronian, Scalpel scuttled down Rya's torso, dragging his talon.

Blood spewed. Scalpel shrieked, "Dizgusting, _human_!"

He leaped from Rya's stomach, pulling the blade free.

Mikaela closed her eyes, but heard the sounds of cutting and skin stretching. Several times Scalpel would ramble off in Cybertronian, other times he would speak in phrases, a combination of English and some other language Mikaela _thought_ was Cybertronian, but sounded like something else, something stronger.

She opened her eyes.

A mistake.

Rya's was split open from neck to hip, like a burst orange, tools keeping the wound from closing. Her organs, a mess, were being poked and prodded by Scalpel, who had a long, thin tube a little bit wider than Mikaela's pinky finger, clasped between two talons.

There was blood. A lot of it.

And still, Rya remained dead.

Mikaela started to sob, then, words incomprehensible. She prayed aloud, prayed for Rya saying please, please let this girl be in heaven and in no more pain...

Please...

_"Is this your mate?"_

_"Yes."_

It was all clear to Mikaela, now_. _This girl meant something, meant everything to Mikaela. And though, like with Sam's death, she managed...

There were no Primes to bring back Rya. No eternal, extraterrestrial spirits.

There was only Scalpel and the tube in his hand, which he was feeding into her stomach, sliding it up under her exposed lungs and into her heart. It connected with a slight squelch.

Scalpel disappeared for a moment, and a moment later, light blue liquid began to shoot through the tube and into Rya.

_Energon_.

Scalpel appeared with two wires, long and black and sparking.

"_Zhis should vork!_"

"Doctor," Barricade warned.

Scalpel thrust the wires straight into Rya's heart. At first, Mikaela thought it to be the force of Scalpels movement that caused her to lurch, but then she realized...

Rya was moving.

_Moving_! Gasping, clawing, _gurgling_.

Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was paler than Mikaela had ever seen it, but she was alive! If only for a moment, and Mikaela screamed and shouted, "_Rya_! Rya! Look at _me_, _stay_ with me-"

Rya gasped and energon mixed with blood exploded from her mouth.

"No!"

Rya lurched and almost toppled off the table. Her heart was glowing, the veins shot through with blue and it was pumping far faster than normal, more like a pulse than anything else.

And each time it beat, Rya lurched and spit energon and blood. Her back arched and her hands curled around empty air.

She was oblivious, Mikaela realized. Rya was oblivious to Mikaela's shouts.

Five minutes of torture. Five minutes of Mikaela watching Rya thrash around and gurgle and spit energon and blood.

Then, abruptly, Scalpel yanked free the wires and the tube and Rya fell silent, unmoving.

Dead.

Back to a corpse.

Then Mikaela had to watch as Scalpel did it again and again.

_Autobots...please arrive soon._

_Please._


	6. Evolution Pt 1

_"You're beautiful, you know that?" Rya kissed Mikaela's shoulder and sighed. "The most beautiful girl I've ever seen...you know? I don't deserve -"_

_"Be quiet, Rya. Don't say stuff like that...," Mikaela turned around, hugging the blankets against her body. Rya's face was invisible in the darkness, though Mikaela could pinpoint the shimmer of Rya's eyes and could feel a slight gust of air against her cheek. Her pink, full lips stretched into a smile. _

_"Guys don't look at me the way they look at you. Nobody does - nobody did, even when I was growing up."_

_"But you don't like guys, so it doesn't matter, right?" Mikaela chewed on her bottom lip, waiting as the silence stretched on for several moments. She wondered if she'd crossed a boundary, had ventured into a touchy subject. _

_"I don't. I like _you_. But its nice to be noticed sometimes...you know, recognized. Not just passed over like you're some...some prop at a supermarket. Meaningless," Rya shifted, and Mikaela reached out to touch her face. "People never looked at me the way they look at you."_

_"Screw them," Mikaela brushed it off, running her finger down Rya's cheek. "I think you're perfect."_

_Mikaela was unaware how Rya would take the compliment - here Mikaela was, confessing, really. Not that she loved Rya, really, truly loved her...not yet, at least. But Mikaela was hoping to change, not at all. _

_"Sure."_

_"Why are you so focused on your looks?" Mikaela asked, hearing Rya sigh. "Why this, all of a sudden? Did I do something wrong...?"_

_"I don't want you to leave me."_

_Mikaela was glad for the darkness. She stared, mouth agape, mind searching for the correct words. "I can't make promises, Rya."_

_"I'm just scared, you know? You're a beautiful girl with a beautiful face and beautiful personality...beautiful everything, really. Everything about you I..." Rya paused, and Mikaela felt the bed creak as Rya rolled over onto her back._

_"You what?"_

_"Nevermind. It's not important," Rya replied quickly. "It was a stupid question to begin with. I didn't know what I was asking or what I was getting at," she blew air through her nose and her voice became a whisper. "It's nothing."_

_Mikaela lost sleep over it, anyway. Even when she was pressed against Rya, pressing light kisses to her shoulder so to lull her into a deep sleep, she was thinking about it._

_"_Everything about you, I..._"_

_"_I._.."_

_Then the windows rattled, and the Decepticon's attacked._

* * *

_"_I can't feel my legs, Mikaela," Rya gurgled, tilting back her head. "I can't..."

Mikaela's fingers stroked Rya's hair. She lay cut open from neck to hip, organs pulsing, crimson blood now mixed with blue energon. Scalpel scuttled around the room, ranting, but otherwise ignoring Mikaela. Barricade reclined in a corner, optics darting from Scalpel to Mikaela, disgust firmly expressed across his visage. But he did not speak, did not move.

"You're going to be alright," Mikaela said soothingly. Rya trembled, wincing as Mikaela's tears splashed against her tender skin. "The Autobots will come...their medic, Ratchet, he'll fix you up -"

"Not enough time-"

"Don't say that," Mikaela snapped, almost bitterly. She mustered the courage to look closer at Rya's face; one eye was shut and the other was open wide, the iris a milky white color speckled with blue. Her lips barely moved as she spoke and her skin was pale, clammy.

"This would work better if we didn't lie to each other," Rya said softly. "I'm going to die. I can't feel anything, Mikaela," she sniffed. "I don't want to die."

"I know, Rya..."

"Not again. I'm afraid, Mikaela, I'm scared..." Rya's face trembled as she struggled to suppress her tears.

"I'm here."

"I know. I see you," Rya tilted her head to the side. "I see you...thank you, Mikaela. Thank you for _everything_."

* * *

"Ironhide, Sideswipe, with me! Quickly!" Lennox raised his gun and glanced behind him, taking off in a sprint as soon as his boots hit the cracked, jagged asphalt. He waved away thin tendrils of smoke, feeling dirt and debris crunch beneath his feet.

The Witwicky house stood, though mutilated. The white gate was shattered along with the front yard and there was a gaping hole in the upstairs wall.

_Thank God that boy is in D.C..._

It was Graham who found the parents of Samuel Witwicky, cowering in the backyard, hunkered down in a shed. They were bloody, disheveled, but all in all unharmed - when Lennox inquired about the location of Mikaela Banes, they just shouted, rambled about explosions and damage and Mikaela's friend and...

They'd become so used to Bumblebee, sweet, harmless Bumblebee, that the sight of Optimus Prime standing before them drove them to silence. Lennox leaped at the opportunity and said, "She has to be alive somewhere - that girl is tough."

Optimus agreed, lifted his head when he heard an ear-splitting explosion. The Witwicky's ducked and Lennox raised his weapon, smoke pouring into the backyard of the home.

A shadowy figure emerged, with glowing red eyes and claws and talons.

Then it began to shoot.

* * *

"Zhe human is dead! No more energon!" Scalpel raged, kicking aside a small surgical tool. Mikaela yelped and leaped back, stumbling, catching herself as Scalpel began tearing away at the tubes and wires attached to Rya, keeping her _alive_ -

"_No_!" Mikaela grasped the closest tool she could find and slammed it into Scalpel. Barricade shouted, rose, and Scalpel flew. He landed upright several yards away, cursing wildly. "Rya!"

Talons curled around her waist and Mikaela was lifted, screaming, kicking. Scalpel spat yellow liquid before leaping upon Rya once more.

He ripped the tube from her heart and Mikaela burst into tears. She was a corpse, a raw corpse, cold, dead, Mikaela shrieked and shrieked until Barricade dropped her.

Mikaela's breath caught and she landed, hard. Her right arm snapped with a pop, tendons stretching.

The pain came in an explosion of clarity. Everything became clear, crystal clear, including the warm vomit as it spewed from her lips. The pain was too intense.

"Pit-forsaken fleshling!" Barricade roared. He bent down and scooped Mikaela up, careful not to touch any of the fluids. His movements were rushed, and through the veil of agony, Mikaela thought she heard gunfire.

_Autobots_...

Her arm was twisted around the wrong way, the cartilage stretched and the bone snapped, if not shattered. Yet she did not pass out, could not pass out...for her own sake, for Rya's sake.

"Leave the offline fleshling," Barricade barked. Scalpel seemed reluctant, but he nodded and skittered off. Hair damp against her moist neck, Mikaela hissed and resisted the urge to hurl once more.

"No..."

"Yes," Barricade replied. "Starscream has request our presence. The Autobots have arrived - we're moving you to a more secure location."

"They'll kill you."

Barricade snorted and stormed forward, towards the warehouse, and then a force so great that it sent Barricade hurtling rippled from the building next to them. Orange fire reflected off Barricade's armor, and for a moment Mikaela, delirious, saw her own reflection.

Barricade's bulk had shielded her from the blast. He spun in midair, clutching Mikaela to his chest, and landed hard on his back.

"Frag!"

Two jets, military, roared past overhead.

Mikaela was reminded, suddenly, of Mission City. She was thrust from Barricade's grip, landing and rolling, gravel jarring her broken arm. The world became a blur of colors as Barricade, struggling to stand, was blasted in the stomach with a missile from the cannon of Ironhide himself.

He was sent flying through the opposite wall.

"Decepticon punk."

Mikaela gasped, heaved, used her functioning arm to lift herself from the ground. Her legs were scraped and bloody, her face a mess of grime. She felt woozy.

Rya was dead.

Dead.

No, no, no.

She saw Lennox running towards her, gun dangling at his side, a few other soldiers behind him. Ironhide hung back, cannons raised.

She had to get the body.

Rya's body.

_It's what she would have wanted._

So Mikaela, face illuminated by the raging, orange flame around her, turned her back on the approaching soldiers and began to run.


End file.
